


Idiosyncratic

by Space__Mullet



Category: Idiosyncratic - Fandom
Genre: Abuse, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Angst and Romance, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Boys' Love, Canon Gay Character, Cat Puns, Cats, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Fiction, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Foreign Language, Gentleness, Graphic Description, High School, Homophobia, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Internalized Homophobia, LGBTQ Character, Light Angst, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Minor Character Death, Minor Character(s), Original Character(s), Original Fiction, Physical Abuse, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Sexual Abuse, Sexual Violence, Slice of Life, Teen Romance, Triggers, Young Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-09-16 20:03:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16960608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Space__Mullet/pseuds/Space__Mullet
Summary: "We're terrified of creatures that bring change with their presence."In the rainy, quiet state of Oregon, we find the story of a 17-year-old boy named Ichiru Engel. He has nothing and only sees himself as an undeserving creature that doesn't have the right to even so much as look those -- who bothered to look at him -- in the eyes. He's just a boy decorated in baggy sweaters, scars, bruises, and secrets hidden by patches. Ichiru is just a boy that wanted nothing more than to omit the taste of his own uselessness from his brain.Ichiru is just a boy that will change everything for another person named Klevi Ogamie, the boy that triggered the change even with his own nightmarish memories of his murdered younger brother and father.Here, we find the beginning to an old life colliding with another's to create two new people. Here, we learn that even the most beautiful of flowers can die with the most inevitable, and dreaded, stroke of tragedy.Here, we accept that even the prettiest and purest of people are tortured by those they love.(This story is not edited)





	1. To Start from the End

#  Idiosyncratic 

###  Chapter I: To Start from the End 

The night danced upon the dew saturated grass of an extreme green; stars skipped in the expansion of the greenery, holding the entirety of the expanding sky of black blankets and night lights in a yard so small as this one. Trees trembled in the frosty touch of the gelid wind, which clawed the bark with icy talons that shook my small frame. The chilled air is what made living feel real. _Abomination. . . That's all you are._

Stars pooled in my small, soft hands, bathing in the serenity of the saline oceans which slipped so naturally from my eyes with an acidic touch. _My eyes, my ugly eyes. ._ . My knees sank into the moist dirt, the grass-- the once beautiful grass-- falling weakly victim to my waiflike weight. My black pant legs soaked up the rain that had passed the night before from the heavy, glum clouds that scattered out of the way of the luminous lunar eclipse. _Why am I so aberrant to everybody?_ The long eyelashes that clung to my eyelids, now heavy with salty tears of spite, pulled themselves together in an attempt to hold my lessening sanity together. A blood moon sleeping above me in its blanket of pitch the only thing to remind me that this was the reality of myself. The embarrassment as to which I always was.

"There you are! Get back in here, you shity brat! Stop your crying!" She screamed, her raspy voice pricking at my ears and clawing at my moon chilled skin. "And cover up, freak, you make me sick!" I jumped as the light white patch of gauze cascaded off my arm that she had thrown at me. I allowed it to fall onto the moistened dirt. I took the gauze in hand and stared at it as if it were a new thing to me; this was the thing that hid my embarrassment so simply, yet ever so cleverly.

"Get in here, listen to your mother! School starts tomorrow and there is no way in hell you are going to stay here!" A male voice echoed the woman's shrill, smokey screech that was thick with a French accent while the male had a soft British accent. I cupped my shaky hands to my eyes, putting my regular patch on as instructed by both of the parental units after a few moments of reminiscing in the silky night life. The outside life. . .

"Y-yes, Mother." A puny voice left my rough lips, cracked by the cooling sensation of the outside and streaming of air in and out from between my lips in gray puffs. I staggered to my feet, wrapping myself in long pale arms with shaking shoulders, crossing them over my small chest, and trying to wipe away the salty tears staining my dusty red cheeks. Cigarette smoke diffused throughout the once refreshing and crisp evening air. It still burned my lungs even though I was used to it by now. A sour scent of alcohol crept its way out of the gaping door that She stood in front of, a large brown bottle in hand and a smear upon her face.

"Shut up and go to your room, you little shit." Sloppy words leaked from her numb mouth of drunken nerves and lost grammatical sense. The bottle in her hand hit the back of my head-- not hard, but painfully-- as I walked past the hickory door and into the small house filled with a repugnant stench and sweaty, drunken idiots.

"A man should be capable of being able to handle a few kicks and punches. Not only are you a fucking mistake, but, you are also weak. How humorous. You really are a woman after all. I bet your penis just fell off one day and you didn't even notice a difference." The male said loud enough for me to hear over the slurred words of his lusty acquaintances--whom, of which, had become more whiskey than flesh or blood within mere minutes. Messy snickers filled the room from the plump mouths of men as they nudged me down to the tattered particle board door that leads to the basement. My bed had been located in here for the past two days of our presence in this God forsaken town, so I could only assume that this was where I was going to stay the rest of the time we lived here.

The stairs creaked under my socked feet-- a bassy voice that bounced off the naked walls like an older man sighing in disgust. A single exposed light bulb of yellow luminescence hung above the centre of my cement floor that was pathetically covered with a single mat of a burlap-brown colour. Blue throw blankets draped themselves over the low mattress with no sheets or frame and a single grey throw pillow to compliment the bare, prison-like walls of off white. In an adjacent corner, a small trash bag lay in a fat knot of the few clothes I owned against a sanded bar stool of oak with a black desk lamp on top. Books sat scattered in shredded piles over the fridged ground. Why did she always do this to me?

Among the only things I had ever brought myself to enjoy, now gone within the few hours I had settled into this lifeless, abandoned thing my parental units called a home. A humble mirror stared back at me, the person within it a short, pale, and slim boy with snowy white hair much in need of a trim as it feathered over his strangely dark blonde eyebrows; the albinism only ran through his skin and hair. An intense, though gentle and exhausted, piercing blue eye looked back into mine with soothing familiarity. It was large and almond-shaped-- innocence filled them like the touch of an angel's hand to the sea. Long sleeves clung loosely to his thin arms, a Kelly green sweater hanging just to his thighs and hugging his black skinny jeans that were just slightly too big for his small waist. His hands were covered in an excess of fluffy sleeve material as his fingers tangled with one another over his hollow stomach. That boy was me. An abomination. I am far too aware of the freak I am; I am far too aware of the mistake I turned out to be-- that I've always been.

All I could do was be this mistake everyone knew I was-- that I knew I was. That's what I was best at; it's the only thing I was brilliant at being; it was practically my talent to mess everything and everyone up.

_An abomination. Yes, that is what I am_.


	2. Ravens of Winter

# Idiosyncratic 

 

###  Chapter II: Ravens of Winter 

Sunlight leaked in through the cracked window, a silent breeze falling over my exposed arms and white locks of delicate spider threads, causing soft glares of golden light to wrap itself like yellow ribbon around fluffs of hair and sting my sleep filled eyes. The gentle smell of spring clouds and rain sifted into the humid dank air of the basement. _So crisp, so clean;_ air like this-- that I could remember-- only found in my little village a couple miles outside of London. The rolling hills of springy sheep chewed grass and indigo wild flowers that stood tall in the meadow of thousands of greens like guards that only allowed mellow honey bees and fluttering butterflies to pass unharmed. The beautiful Willows and Elms that threw their branches to the wind to allow themselves to travel the world as I had always wished to do as easily as them. Gorgeous cathedrals scratching down at the grey-blue sky during the day so they could lift the stars to the horizon as I slept in the comforting blanket of green. I missed St.Albans; I missed the sweet smell of fresh fruit and bread and spices from around the world as the scents skipped through the narrow streets; I missed the wondering game trails and the soft breezes that pushed my snowy hair from my eye as I gazed down upon the free-flying insects who gathered under the trees I would climb to escape and. . . _Them_ ; those who shunned me-- who pushed me to the corners of their lives and despised me. I missed them as well.

I stood from the mattress, my warm feet absorbing the chilled pang found covering the expansion of the now clean floor I cleansed the night before. Taking in the sweet flavour of the peaceful morning one last time, I ventured upstairs to the closed opening of the basement.

Fat men lay disheveled upon the heated wooden flooring as if large obstacles out to stop me from taking a shower. Vomit stained the toilet and sink, covered pathetically with a one fluffy white towel and strips of bathroom tissue. The blue paint that framed the white glass enclosed shower sits wounded with scratches and blood from the hoard of the stench saturated men-- stuck with the horrid scent of alcohol. I stepped into the shower, cleaning my hair and body quickly with a coconut milk shampoo-- massaging the white substance into my scalp with a cooling effect that soothed my aching nerves. Bubbles covered the dark blue and purple bruises that seemed to stand out on my pale milky skin as if they were screaming out that I was hit repeatedly with small fists. Climbing out within short minutes, I wrapped my waist in a large powder blue towel after applying a generous rub of pungent deodorant under my arms.

Grabbing my filthy clothes, I walked out of the steam filled room and back down to my room to dress for the day. The door gave off a billowing scream as I closed it behind me, trotting down the steps and over to the large bag of clothes in the frozen corner. A large soft dark grey sweater, black straight jeans, and black skateboard shoes with black socks seemed to have peeked my interest and decided to become my first-day-of-school clothes. I dressed swiftly as if I would be late and then tied my patch as if in a heist-- snatching up my small black backpack and running up the stairs.

A smile crept onto my thin lips as I thought of this new start I have always wanted; maybe things would be different here in this quaint American town within Oregon. Maybe they will accept me for who I really was.

_We can all wish. ._ .

~~

The hard tendrils of iced air, scratching where warmth would caress, poking at my spine like the cruel prod from the bony finger of Jack Frost. Cold, soothing air snaked its way down my back with each gentle stride I took upon the glistening cement that cradled the small taps of my shoes. Douglas trees stood benumbed to the side of the walkways, rustling like the angelic feathers of a raven. Cherry Blossoms gave off heavenly scents of sweet pink petals which smelled of vanilla and sweet peas as they dribbled in beautiful drops of softness. _Feathers of angels. . ._ The many who passed me possessed wondering eyes that fell upon me in a curious disgust, my eye falling to the ground to avoid looking at their odd reactions to me. I was thankful for having the house be so close the high school.

As seven approached the hands of my plain black watch, I found that the anxiety balled up in my chest increased as the school grew larger before me with each shaky step I forced my legs to make. I drew in a less than confident breath as the intersection across the school's doors came to kiss the bottoms of my feet. An aggressive shove thrust me forward, causing my hands to instinctively catch my falling weight on the slippery concrete, though it was still clumsy.

"Oi, watch where you are going, kid." Air clotted in my throat to form a lump, strangling my words into a breathy gasp-- a white cotton cloud spilling out past my teeth and rising like the smoke of a cigarette. I dared to gaze up at the owner of the deep cold male voice, my arms still keeping me stable and the textured sidewalk pressing into my feeble knees. His large pale hand stretched out before him in a lazy attempt to appear thoughtful. He was willowy but also muscular-- it almost seemed odd to have both traits favour him, but seeing them both together on one person made it apparent that these two traits rightfully walked hand in hand. Large, soulful emerald eyes peaked through long strands of playfully messy jet black hair, coning over his thin, neat brows-- slightly furrowed with frustration and sleep. Even though his eyes were soulful, they looked broken in a certain way, as if he we hiding something dark deep within him, something he wanted to shove deeper and deeper into his soul. Though his expression seemed much older than he looked, he is roughly around the age of seventeen that I also occupied.

"I-I-I, ah, um. . . I apologise for walking i-in your way." I graciously took his large hand in mine, keeping my head bowed due to my own apparent stupidity. A small smile tugged at the corners of his thin lips, taking away the soft pale pink skin and revealing beautifully white straight teeth. Snake bite piercings-- I believed that was what they were known as-- latched onto his bottom lip with a dark blue jewellery loop.

"Apology accepted." He said sweetly as if trying to reassure me while single-handedly pulling me back up to my clumsy feet, causing me to slightly stumble forward in surprise to being lifted so suddenly. I hadn't realised how elevated he was compared to my malnourished stature until he bent down to dust off the shoulder of my loose sweater-- his beautiful eyes wondering over the slightly hidden features of my moderately childish face.

". . . Th-thank you, a-and, again, I apologise for th-the inconvenience I have caused you." My voice hardly louder than an audible whisper. I bowed respectfully to him, bringing my right palm to left of my chest and the other folded behind me, resting on the small of my back. I stood off to the side in the crunchy grass, freshly fallen leaves hugging my worn shoes to allow him ahead of me. A sly laugh came from him, sounding as if it came from deep within his broad chest. _A real laugh._ He grabbed the collar of his dark black leather jacket and jerked it forward from his muscular shoulders.

"You're weird, kid." His hand ruffled my already messy hair for a couple short moments and then retracted his hand back into his the deep pockets of his jacket-- his lengthy black and white Native American pattern scarf wrapped perfectly around his beautiful long neck. I lifted my head slightly to steal a glance of his gorgeous, innocent eyes one last time before I was off, but he caught mine before I could look away-- a disapproving frown coating his once joyous face.

"I-I should go now." I put a foot after my other to turn away as I clutched my bag in embarrassment but a strong hand wrapped around my dainty wrists, jerking me backwards in a swift and whimsical move. Out of habit, I froze-- my breath halting in my throat and my heartbeat increasing. Honestly, I am terrified of this man as much as I am scared of everybody else; this is how it begins; this is how is always begins. _A new tormentor already._

"Wait, wait, what is up with the eye patch, kid?" His grip tightened around me and I began to crumble under his remarkable strength. A whimper squeaked out of my mouth as I held onto the air in my windpipe. I tugged at my trapped limb, to which had shown to no avail.

"I-I... Need to go, please let go." I subconsciously tugged at the silky corner of the eyepatch, averting my gaze to the dark stony walkway. His hand dropped almost instantly as if he were clinging on to my every word. Though I had not been aware of it, I was running-- tightly wrapping my small hands around the straps of my bag; past the trees and my soon to be fellow classmates-- my legs carrying my person as far as they could to the practically empty school-- doors flying open behind me and closing seconds after I had already run through them. My legs bringing me into the nearest boy's restroom on the first floor.

_You are so pathetic, so weak. . . So. . . Abnormal. . ._

_What's wrong with me?_


End file.
